


The BFD (Big Fucking Deathclaw)

by daturana



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - The BFG, Childish Shenanigans, Deathclaw OC - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Minor Character(s), Sneaking Out, Talking Deathclaws, Todd Howard and His Sweet Little Lies (cameo), Todd Howard and His Sweet Sweet Lies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daturana/pseuds/daturana
Summary: Nat Wright sneaks off into the night with friends and meets a talking deathclaw mother.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i had this idea for a while and this little thing is a preface and stuff
> 
> i'm really slow and better at ideas than writing lmfao

A child of the night, Nat Wright has yet to recall the last time she got a wink of sleep before the clock struck midnight. Sleep meant slumming it in that grungy, thin yellow sleeping bag and her older sister may be out of town now, but she still hated sleep. At least not at night. It drove Piper insane, but it’s her fault for calling dibs on the only bed.

But Piper wasn’t here now and comfort, or the lack thereof, was nothing but an excuse.

Up in the loft, the young girl sat before the terminal, peering through the paper’s archives. Nora, that vault dweller, mentioned a remedy – pre-war – for sleepless nights, so now Nat’s daily night routine involves warming up brahmin milk by the fire. Her description of a “cow” baffled her. Sounds fake. Drinking radioactive milk had a strange sour kick to it which didn’t seem to do all that much but give her a “milk mustache” (yes, Piper has pictures, but Nat has no idea where they are, so she can’t burn them). Nat could be sleeping comfortably on Piper’s bed but being thirteen and home alone meant sleep could wait. Wiping her milk ‘stache with her sleeve, she latched onto the loft’s roof exit and let the cool night inside.

The roof of Publick Occurrences was Nat’s favorite lookout: perfect for sniping passers-by with baseballs and menial pranks. Stars lit the city below while grasshoppers chattered their nightly songs. It was just her, the security and Takahashi out this late. Nat sat for a little longer, idly swinging her legs. She squinted as a guard appeared in the distance: Todd Howard. Following him with her eyes was easy, he never strayed from his route – not even to piss (Nat would know – she didn’t stalk the patrols for nothing). Sheng said they’re synths and this might be the one time he’s fucking right.

Gripping the ledge, she propelled herself over. She stuck the landing, knees bent, and landed just in the market square.  Watching Todd’s every move, she slid around the corner of Power Noodles, hiding in the shadows of the awning. Crouched just slightly and she couldn’t see above the counters nor could Takahashi see her.

Eying the Fancy Lads peeking out of his back pocket and lifted the snack cakes. Sheffield stirred in his sleeping bag and she froze, but the beggar didn’t wake. With a sigh of relief, she trailed behind the guard to the end of the market. As he approached the guard barracks, Nat stood still, not moving a muscle until he left her sight.


End file.
